Journals from the Borderlands
by vaulthunting
Summary: Random thoughts and one shots. Assorted characters from the Borderlands canon universe. More to come. Thanks for reading!
1. Zer0

"Please do be quiet.

I have an interview now.

I will do my best."

Interviewer:

"So, (ahem), Zer0. Thank you for meeting me here with such swift notice. I admire your..um...

You seem to have quite the repertoire of stealth skills.

In fact, you scared me a bit, earlier."

"I apologize.

I did not mean to scare you.

I was just chilling."

..."In any case, here we are. And we are all dying to know, just who is Zer0? Who is the man behind the mask?"

(Silence.)

Interviewer: "Cut the feed! Cut the feed!"

(Static noises.)


	2. Mordecai

HQ BALCONY, SANCTUARY (Three Sheets to the Wind)

Leaning my elbows against the stone railing, I stared up at the pale crimson sky, and sighed audibly. My breath (and heart) felt dry and heavy. It'd been several months since Bloodwing...well, you know.

I was still drowning in my pain, and despite the attempts from my friends to help me, I just couldn't pull myself out. Even Zer0 had offered his help, and I knew it wasn't just out of duty or respect. When something bad happened, it affected all of us.

I could tell I was bringing them all down, and I hated that! There were bad guys to be killed, and here I was, pouting (and drinking) my way into nothing.

"Fuck this," I said to no one, and pushed off the railing to stand up straighter.

I succeeded at this insofar as a haggard sway, and nearly bashed the back of my skull on the stone exterior.

I barely caught myself on the door frame.  
Sheepishly (maybe if I hadn't been so drunk, I might have actually been embarrassed), I leaned back and tried to steady the swirling behind my eyes.

"You okay there, killer?"

A familiar voice questioned me with concern. This was not the first (or final) time that she had come to my rescue.

"Yeah, Lil, I'm fine. Thanks...Y'know, I was thinking that I should quit drinking," I said, peeking out from under one eye at the Siren.

I swore I could see her whole being light up at these words...but she was smart enough to tread with care, having tried and tried before to broach this very subject.

"In fact, I'm sick of all of you looking at me exactly like you are now: Like you're terrified to hurt me, or maybe scared that I'll freak out...whatever it is, I'm sick of being that guy. I miss being part of the team. I miss Bloodwing, yeah, but she would want me fucking guys up, not going in circles around them."

Lilith must have been holding her breath, because she let out a long sigh, her eyes watery.

"Oh, Mordy, I'm so happy! I'll do everything I can to get you the best guns on Pandora! It'll be like the Badlands all over again, except better!" She cried out, lunging toward me in an embrace. I meekly patted her on the back, fluid motion getting the best of me.

"Sounds great, Lil. But I might need to sober up first," I said dizzily.

She looked up at me, tears still in her eyes and grinned.  
"Whatever you need, Mordy. Whatever you need."


	3. Athena, the Poet

It always happens when you're not looking.

You can dream close, but can you look closer?

Almost.

Almost.

"Almost," she says, until it's not even a word.

What have you got to lose...?...Nothing..?

Well, then, what are you waiting for?

This is all I know; words and thoughts,

Flooding through me, like lava that burns.

I glare a hotter flame, and wear it like a curse.

Sometimes a shield does nothing for the soul.

It burns and it hurts.

These thoughts, these words,

that incessantly flow

throughout me.

They cannot be contained...

I merely slash them with my sword.

But still they remain gathered in my head,

bound up and holding like a dam.

When they weather my will to break it,

the falls then flow, through the ravines of my brain.

The threat of death hangs heavy and low.

Through a crevasse, an incompasse.

I lead to a hollow.

Wanting, needing to float and flow,

Yet I simply fall.

Slowly and deeply, an everlasting pause, a question.

Sleep is the only silence.

I must land softly there.

Just a dream I've had,

And I wake from it, alive.

I imagine I'm still the hero of my dream.

I imagine to always be the hero,

Graceful or not.

Flagrant, not caught.

Yet I imagine I'm in way, way, too deep.

I simply might have too many words.


	4. LilithMordecai

"Fuck this gun!" Lilith spat as she slammed her ill-gotten (shitty?) gun to the ground.

"Jeez, Lil, why're you actin' so crazy?" Mordecai observed, squinting his eye at some faraway bandits through his sniper's scope.

"I'm so fucking pissed, I can't stand it anymore!" She responded, as she stormed off towards the edge of the cliff.

"Fuuuuuckkkkk!" The Siren belted out, the snapping echo of her rage bouncing off the valley below.

Mordecai lowered his gun, and glided over to the distraught Siren in front of him.

She was in so much pain. He could definitely feel it reeling off of her in waves:

Her desire for vengeance, her raging aura matching her red locks. He needed to calm her, like so many times before this... Needed to be her rock, and her shield, now. Because her love was gone, taken from her. He just couldn't stand this agony. She shouldn't be fighting. And to be a callous asshole...Frankly, she was throwing off his aim.

"Lilith, maybe we should take a break...? I have some ale and rakk jerky, if you're hungry. It's getting dark anyway." He tried, and succeeded.

Thinking logically, as she always did, Lilith heaved a life-weary sigh.

"Maybe you're right..." She responded hesitantly, as she reached for the meat in his hand. Bloodwing Junior cooed in agreement as she started to eat, and sat down, glaring at the fire.

They sat in calm silence for a long while.

Suddenly, Lilith stood up, holstered her gun, and stooped low in front of Mordecai's face.

"Thank you," she whispered, leaving a kiss on his cheek. She then sat herself beside him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You know," she queried thoughtfully, "I feel like Roland is happier now..."

"I think so, too, Lil. I really do."

Mordecai reached down to stroke her bangs from her face, and seeing her eyes close, leaned down to give her a kiss on her forehead.

"...I really do."

A few rakks nearby screeched as if agreement, and soon the Pandoran darkness swarmed into their makeshift haven.

"You're safe with me, Lil," Mordecai whispered.

He didn't think she had heard him, when she replied:

"Always."

He tugged her closer as he watched his Siren fall to languor.

She didn't know it, but he kept watch over her all night. If nothing else, he would protect her with his life.

Just as Roland had done.

He felt a sense of blissful calm with this thought, and knew instantly the meaning of his whole godforsaken life:

"Protecting the ones you love is the most honorable wish you could ever ask for."

His newborn hawk cawed from above the fire, and he smiled.

'So much to protect...' He thought absently.


	5. Zer0, The Cardsharp

Five Vault Hunters sat around the table in HQ, each one holding cards:

Axton was gently intent on making some money (well, taking it anyway).

Maya was pissed off and determined to win hers back (yikes!).

Gaige was calculating the best possible outcome (cheating?).

Mordecai, forever relaxed, was languidly nursing his cards (and crate of beer).

And Zer0, wielding an air of conquest, was seemingly enjoying this new challenge.

"'Please prepare to lose.

My trump card shares in my bluff.

Fools, you have nothing," Zer0 whispers under his breath, almost silent.

"Shit! I fold," Maya concedes, flinging her free hands into the air with dark defeat and intense frustration that only a Siren could possess.

"I'll be at Moxxi's if you need me," Maya says irritably, as she stands and stalks off toward the bar.

Mordecai smirks, unworried, and leans back in his chair to take a drink.

Gaige scowls at the loot on the table. (Most of it consists of cash and Eridium.)

Axton, flippant as ever, merely looks bored and distracted, and begins to fidget.

Zer0, however, is focused and determined to take everything from them:

Their prides, their loot, and best of all, their stupid smug faces.

Zer0 understood quite well the inner workings of war, and the same rules applied to card play. Not unlike a real battle, he knew that removing ambivalence was important when trying to determine whether to use stealth or attack head-on.

Strategy was key, and this knowledge was now working in his favor.

One opponent was finished, and another was annoyed, a sure sign of impending failure. He couldn't tell much from the two other men, but this was Zer0's game. He could wait to see.

He wouldn't achieve victory through illicit means, like subterfuge or cunning. Rather, he would be patient, biding his time to throw down his trump card, bluffing his mask off until he could legitimately take it all, with a simple flick of his wrist, like so many unfortunate victims before them.

It was just a matter of time. With Mordecai getting drunk, he would no doubt let down his guard eventually, and Zer0 would instantly notice. In fact, he was actively searching for any subtle cracks in the hunter's smirking, masked face.

Meanwhile, Axton was swiftly losing interest in the whole thing, a passive-aggressive attitude that showed Zer0 his confidence was waning, or close to nil. A bad hand?

A sly grin spreads across the assassin's face beneath the mask, and he announces in standard Zer0-style:

"Excellent. My turn.

You are all my bitches, now.

Surrender, be free."

He plunks his hand on the table, then proudly sits back in his chair and crosses his arms, prepared for the well-deserved ass-kissing and wild praise he was sure to receive.

His announcement is received with dazed silence.

"Um, Zer0? Do you even know what a trump card is?" Gaige asks quietly.

Zer0 becomes still and he answers hesitantly, "Yes, why?"

Gaige continues, "Well, for one thing, these aren't even regular cards. And two, I think you mean a 'trap' card. But that's still something completely different...And anyway-"

"Silence, foolish girl!

Do you dare to challenge me?

I will destroy you." Zer0 threatens harshly.

"Man, whatever. Just let him have this one, Gaige. He won't ever live it down otherwise." Mordecai stretches as he stands to leave, then says gruffly:

"Agh, I'm hungry. You hungry, Ax?"

"Yup," he responds, and the two men start to exit.

"You're buyin' this time," Mordecai quips to Axton, as he too, folds out of the game.

"Hahaha, fine. But you better play darts with me."

The two men continue their friendly banter, totally unaffected by the game behind them.

A reluctant Gaige sighs, yielding victory over to the bluffer of all bluffing bluffers, staring longingly at the huge pile of money on the table.

"I fold," Gaige relents.

"That would be wise, friend.

I might have kicked your asses,

But this loot is mine."

"Kicked our...?" Gaige starts, then thinks better of it. Zer0 was a stubborn motherfucker. Once he decided something, that was fucking that. So the guy was a little competitive. He was also just a hair shy of psychotic, so a pissed off and unhinged Zer0 would not be pretty.

"Have fun, Zer0. Don't spend it all on guns," Gaige says as she walks away.

He waited until she was out of sight to stand up, moving quicker than a rat thief, scooping up the piles of money with glee... Hugging it, sniffing it, then making it rain, only to pick it all up and repeat the process.

A rare sight to see, indeed. A masked assassin dancing with his loot. Loot that had been forfeited to him, mind you, but semantics meant nothing to Zer0 when he had so "cleverly" acquired it.

The money was gone within a few hours, passed on to a friendly neighborhood arms dealer, and the four victims of the confused card shark never invited him to play cards again.

...Zer0 continued his hustle, searching for more victims.


	6. Roland

I breathed in every last breath I could. Who knew that death could be so lonely...?

All the things I wanted to say to her...all the things I could never do in the end...

I saw her scream in horror as the pain in my chest oozed my death.

It is too late, love.

Am I a hero?

Am I your hero?


	7. Axton

"'Rid Rum is a refreshing drink of the violet variety! Rid yourself of worries with Maliwan 'Rid Rum! (Made with artificial sugarcane.)"

"Gimme four doubles, please," Axton calls to Moxxi behind the counter at the Up Over Bar, plunking himself down on the stools in front of the slot machines.

"Sure thing, sugar," she says with her trademark graceful smirk, and readies several shots of purple 'Rid Rum in a row. Moxxi knew her customers well, and she knew that when Axton (in particular) chose to drink, he was about to get some badass guns.

(And by extension, she would, too. Now that's capitalism, baby!)

Why the hell was he in Concordia?

It may have been for mere 'convenience.' It may have been to sight-see. Whatever anyone thought, he really just wanted to gamble, and holding a skag's tail for luck in one hand and a stiff drink in the other, he could give a shit either way.

He remembered his infantry days and his mates grinding guns until they had but one left. This particular grinder was Dahl, like the others, and was probably the last of its kind. (This was the main reason, but he said nothing of it, and no one asked.)

Aside from all that, he didn't really want to wander around with Fast Travel (he didn't need to), but he was a contradiction in, not only terms, but actions.

Some would call him a liar; He believed in quick thinking, and changing plans at a second's notice.

At that moment, he should've been out on a mission with Maya and the others, but he had decided to make a quick detour to test his luck first. (And he needed better guns.)

He puts in the required guns, and starts the grinder. It whirs and makes a mechanical sucking noise before it miraculously spits out a legendary shotgun on the first try.

"No way," he says to himself quietly, picking it up to examine it.

"Viral Marketer, huh?"

Satisfied, at least for the moment, he begins grinding his excess guns one after the other, hoping for the same luck as his first try.

He is not disappointed.

Heading back to the bar with several newer, rarer guns, his ECHO-comm suddenly goes off, and an irritated-sounding voice blares out:

"What the fuck, Ax? Where the hell are you?" With the sounds of battle loud and clear in the background, he responds calmly.

"Don't worry. I'm on my way...and I have presents," he adds, smiling to himself.

"Presents?! How's my foot up your ass sound for a present?"

Axton chuckles at the voice, and is grateful for the distance between himself and the livid Siren on the opposite end. He knows he's a good teammate, and he was pretty sure that's the only reason he wasn't being Phaselocked right now. (Aside from the fact that his team was fighting without him.)

"Move your ass!" Maya screams through the ECHO-comm.

"I know, I know! Priorities!" Axton yells back in a playful tone.

"You better not be fucking around!"

He takes a few more shots of 'Rid Rum before tipping Moxxi and says, "Thanks for keeping quiet. I wanted to surprise them."

"Of course, hon," Moxxi says, and smiles as he turns to leave.

"And Happy Birthday!" she adds with a wink.

Some would call him a liar, yes; But he believed in giving gifts to his friends, and changing plans at a moment's notice on his birthday.

Despite his joy, he still prays that the tight hell waiting for him doesn't completely ruin his day.


	8. Nisha, The Scarbinger

(In which Nisha gives herself scars.)

"You sorry bastard...You stole from the wrong person!"

Nisha cackled triumphantly. She had been taunting the thieving bandit for almost an hour. She intended to kill him later, but she rather enjoyed seeing the pain on his face. His flesh was seared and melted, smoking from the fire and sparks.

She was quite proud of her sadistic little contraption. **Several tubes of wire were fixed to the bandit's head, and these tubes were fastened to a gas tank. She had rigged up the remaining length of wire to a breaker, and every flip of the switch passing back through the fuel came alight with fire, tormenting the poor soul. The wires in the tubes were necessary. How else would she be able to shock and burn him simultaneously?

She had caught the dumb bastard trying to steal her loot, the stash of loot that only she knew about. Not even Jack knew about her little cove full of valuables. She wanted to keep it that way.

"Aghhh! Stop! Please! PLEASE STO-gggghhhhh..." the bandit gurgled. He was starting to annoy her with his weakness.

Nisha cut him off with yet another flip of the switch, and reveled in his cries. With a feigned sigh of regret, she turned off the breaker, and clucked her tongue at the writhing man before her.

"Don't you have anything interesting to say? I'm getting bored," she said.

The bandit merely hung his head, and it swayed back and forth with exhaustion. Nisha sighed, and said sadly:

"Guess you're used up. I would let you go, but..."

With that, she drew her Jakobs pistol and pressed it to his temple.

"Any last words?" She asked with a solemn look.

"F-fu-fuck you, bitch," he spoke limply.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

The next second, the poor sap's brains were scattered on the floor, and Nisha frowned, wiping spatters of blood off her face.

"So messy," she grimaced.

"But worth it," she added with a sneer, and prodded her boot at the bloody corpse.

She needed a new hiding place.

She certainly couldn't afford to give up her loot...but she sure as hell couldn't afford to keep it hidden in such a remote place. Maybe something fortified would be better. Something underground might work...Like a vault of her very own creation.

She thought about the many mines contained nearby. Better than simply being abandoned, they were also within her jurisdiction.

(Well, what WASN'T in her jurisdiction these days?)

Eh, she could worry about her loot later. There was a more immediate issue...a dead bandit with which she had to make an example.

She holstered her gun and squatted near the fresh corpse, studying it. How could she make an example of a thief without revealing what was stolen?

"I could just tell the truth, but the greedy bastards wouldn't think twice about rebellion," she thought aloud.

Nisha stared at the disgusting, mangled body before her, when suddenly, the solution dawned on her:

The thing stolen should be something intangible, something subjective. Something inherently priceless, but without monetary value.

Something like...beauty.

Of course it would be her self, because it would be foolish to assume or present anything otherwise.

Nisha felt dread and adrenaline surge through her. She knew Jack would be pissed, and maybe he would even believe her little lie...but there was no way in hell that she was giving up her secret. It was her treasure, as much a part of her as killing the assholes who broke her laws.

It had taken a lifetime to collect, and if that meant giving herself an ugly scar, she would willingly sacrifice that much.

Besides, she imagined herself to be more greedy than vain.

(A/N: Harbinger, anyone?)

***No idea if this would work in the real world, so I kept it vague... Everything would probably explode though, so you know..Give and take hahaha.


	9. Maya

(Cuddles, mothafucka.)

"Is she dead?" Axton questioned, poking the motionless woman's cheek tentatively.

The Siren was sprawled out in the flimsy tent, and had been lying still for over ten hours. At Lilith's request, the group of four-Axton, Sal, Krieg, and Maya-were in the Arid Hills clearing out bandit settlements that had recently cropped up there. It turned out that murdering several innocent members of an already scarce population seemed to draw attention.

So she'd sent the muscle for the fight, and Maya to keep them in line.

All of them had slept and eaten, and were wondering just what the hell was wrong with their comrade. No amount of poking or prodding (or worried shouting, in Krieg's case) moved the woman an inch. It was like she was paralyzed, or in a coma. She didn't even seem to be breathing (which on closer inspection, proved false).

They had been trying to wake her for a couple of hours, even threatening crudeness against her. The puerile toilet humor in their pleas only increased with their graduating desperation.

However, Maya remained there, unstirring.

"What the fuck?!" Sal practically screamed.

"Toes for comas! Life on the bridge!..."

Krieg's voice then softened a little:

"...She's cold and sad sunshine, my girl..."

His face was downcast, and he fidgeted with his axe. He kept shifting his weight, as his dismal eyes moved from Maya then back down to his feet repeatedly.

Axton threw up his hands in aggravation and glared at the woman on the ground:

"Look, Maya, I don't know what shit you're tryna pull, but it's over. Just give it up. We have stuff to do besides worry about your ass...As fuckin' fine as it is." He let out a low whistle, and bent over her face, looking for any reaction.

(He added this last bit on purpose, knowing that any other time, his jaw would get wrapped around his head.)

Eyebrow cocked, Axton was deep in thought. They'd already tried everything they could think of, including shooting their weapons. They had had to stop this eventually though, as practicality dictated they'd be even more useless without bullets.

'Damn,' Axton thought. 'Why does the smartest person in the group have to be out cold?'

They were out of ideas.

Salvador suddenly plopped down next to Maya, and lit a cigar.

"Maybe WE should give it up, amigo. She's just really tired."

Staring into space, he squinted thoughtfully and puffed the tobacco. Clouds of smoke swarmed around his face and he added rather quietly:

"Like really, really, tired..."

He paused to look over at her, and then glanced back at his friends, smiling. His cigar flopped in his mouth as he spoke.

"Why the hell are we waiting? We can just fuckin' carry her."

Axton groaned loudly, rubbing his face with both hands. He hung his head in defeat. He was mortified.

Krieg was silent for a small moment when his eyes lit up.

"Dumbass meat gravy!"

You could tell he was smiling beneath the mask because his eyes crinkled up and (briefly) appeared sane with comprehension.

Salvador leaned his head back and unleashed a roar of laughter. His shoulders still convulsed with glee even when he inhaled too much smoke and had to forcefully cough instead.

Deflated, Axton asked, "Okay, now, uh...God, I feel so fucking STUPID... um, anyway, let's... Krieg, you wanna carry her?"

He nodded in response and moved next to her, kneeling where Salvador had been seated minutes before.

Stooping his huge frame over her, he attempted to lift her, but he paused, peering down at her face. He saw the first movement she'd made the whole time they had been awake.

She was smiling.

With unnatural strength and the element of surprise, Maya flung her arms around the psycho's neck, and dragged him down next to her. She squeezed him like a stuffed animal, so tightly and concrete, that Krieg actually grinned at the forceful motion. Despite the fact that his vision started getting fuzzy from lack of oxygen, he felt overjoyed.

Shifting his bulky body around so his back faced the Siren more evenly, Krieg breathed happily. He didn't give one fuck if she choked him. Hell, he welcomed it, because one of his dreams had finally come true.

In that instant, he had become his favorite Siren's cuddle-buddy.

No. He WAS the cuddle.

At least, that's what the dormant Maya seemed to think.

"Um, I guess this means we wait?" The Gunzerker asked vacantly, as Axton stared on in disbelief at the scene before him.

Huffily, Axton flung himself down on the ground behind Maya, and wrapped his arm over his teammates. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

Salvador merely stood there, studying the trio, and puffed away on his cigar.

Shrugging, he flicked the butt outside, and curled up around their heads.

"This really wasn't on my agenda today, Sal," he heard Axton mumble near his bent knees.

Salvador grunted sleepily, and said without thinking:

"Who knew that babysitting a Siren could be so much fun?"

Right then, Maya sighed contentedly, and her soft warm glow lulled the men to sleep.

Fuck sleeping alone. For best results, cuddle a Vault Hunter.


	10. Nisha

He does all the wrong things, for all the right reasons.

Isn't that enough?

Perhaps.

Perhaps not.

He is a leader, and, well, my piss-poor father was nothing but caught in bandit crossfire.

I admire his tenacity, boldness, his (if you can believe it) sarcasm, and even the sly way he cocks his eyebrow like a teacher when asking him something.

Yes, he is a leader.

He is also mine.


	11. The Gun

Elbows perched on her desk with her chin in her hands, Janey stared hard at the assassin's back.

Oblivious to her inquisitive stare, Athena stood in front of the grinder, evaluating her weaponry.

Janey daydreamed (as she often did) about wrapping her arms around her shoulders, forcing Athena's ears to grow red with the gift of a new legendary gun being placed in her hands.

It was a wonder the rogue assassin herself had not yet procured such a gun, and Janey was hell-bent on finding her one.

Just any present wouldn't do.

And her grinder simply wasn't doing the trick.

...So Janey decided herself.

Her birthday night would be awesome.

"Athena deserves happiness," she thought.


	12. The Gun, Part 2

Part 3 at some point in the future...With maybe some sexy fun time? ;)

JATHENA FOR LIFE.

Athena stood in front of the grinder in Concordia, seemingly unable to decide which guns she wanted to give up.

As she pretended to concentrate on her selection, her thoughts led to Janey.

The assassin would never say it out loud, but she sometimes thought that she was just a project to Janey, something broken that needed fixing.  
She hated herself for these stupid doubts, because Janey would angrily disagree. Of course she would.

She was sincere and cared deeply about her, Athena knew that. She knew, but opening up and trusting again was a slow process.

She always felt ashamed when she felt this way. On the occasions that she tried to distance herself, Janey would become fiercely affectionate, refusing to be pushed away.

First her face and ears would turn red, and her nostrils would flare, and then between caresses, she'd list all the reasons why Athena was special to her.  
And every time, through all the kisses and reasons why, Athena always caved in when she heard how cute and amplified her accent became when she got angry.  
Regardless of how withdrawn she tried to remain, these heated and loving displays always reassured her how lucky she was to have her.

Janey was earnestly and consistently there for her...not caring or even thinking of the dangers she might encounter-physical or otherwise.

Athena smiled to herself and thought, 'So reckless and persistent. Why do you put yourself at risk like that?'

The assassin never strayed far from honesty...but when it came to Janey, sometimes she almost wished that she would come to hate her, if only to keep her safe.

She couldn't be more honest than the little pieces of herself that she gave to Janey, however long that took...

But matters of the heart and matters of her profession were two different things.

Being honest about what she'd been trained to do would only serve to hurt her, and the assassin intended to keep her safe.

Her countless enemies wouldn't hesitate to see her dead, if it meant Athena's defeat.

'I will not lose you, Janey,' she thought.

"Hey, Athena..." A voice called out from behind her.

Startled out of her thoughts, she almost dropped the gun she was holding.

She turned around to face her girlfriend.

"Huh? I mean, um, what's up?" Athena responded.

Acting coy, Janey fiddled with her hands.

"Um, do you wanna go to the bar? I hear Moxxi gives out free drinks for birthday girls."

Stunned, Athena took a second before she remembered that it was, indeed, her birthday.

'Shit,'she thought.

She wasn't really a big party girl, but the words "free" and "drinks" were definitely a reason to celebrate, no matter what day it was.

"Okay, sure. Let's go," she conceded with a smile, and wrapped her arm around Janey.

The blonde leaned in close and whispered, "I have a surprise for you later. Well, two, actually, but one of them isn't what you think."

Athena laughed softly and kissed her.

"I can't wait."


	13. Maya's Revenge

(Zer0 isn't the only one who loves his loot...)

She couldn't have any better opponents.

Luckily, Zer0 was out on a mission, and Maya was on her own, in an attempt to redeem herself.

The players:

Gaige flicked the cards in her hand impatiently.

Surprisingly, Lilith was cool as ice; Her poker face intact, she glared at her dealt hand.

Krieg leaned back in his chair, unaware of the imminent danger.

And of course, the poker veteran, Mordecai, dealt the cards.

Unsure at first, she sat herself down at the table in HQ.

Swiftly studying her opponents, she knew she had to relax. The best bluffers in Pandora were in this game.

(Zer0 aside, she would fuck him up some other way.)

"Oh-kay...so..." Maya started.

Mordecai responded, somewhat adhering to her hesitation.

"So here we go. Your turn, Gaige," he said, seemingly ignoring Maya.

The cards played from there, and their faces flipped through the blue-haired Siren's vision as he shuffled the cards.

The dice shamelessly tumbled across the table.

The instigator of the poker game had a problem...

She was not a bluffer, and she hadn't ever truly lied (until now) for her own benefit...

Lilith perked up, a sticky high dose of Siren supplement following her own suggestion.

"Go," Lilith spoke to her tattooed female brethren.

Tipsy (not drunk), Maya beckoned Krieg's turn.

"Nah-ah-ah...YOUR turn," Mordecai warned, shaking his index finger at her.

Reluctantly, Maya gathered her courage, prepared to face defeat.

Gaige giggled at Krieg, and Maya let a sudden anger boil beneath her.

"Fuck it...okayyy..." She whispered vacantly, looking at a black ace of spades.

Her expression was one of shock.

Mordecai broke the rules and leaned over her shoulder to see her cards.

Somehow she had a royal flush...

The Hunter then casually folded out of the game upon witnessing her hand, but Lilith was not at all pleased.

"The fuck..?" Lilith questioned her masked friend, not expecting an answer.

Mordecai just nodded solemnly at Maya, and took a long drink from his green bottle.

Two Sirens, a Psycho, and an Engineer remained.

She was still in charge... But she waited.

Thankfully Krieg was predictable, because he backed out soon after Mordecai. He didn't know why...not exactly...

But he could see his lady in distress.

Gaige had a good hand...No, a GREAT hand..Yet, she became distracted by Krieg and Mordy's conversation about swords.

Who knew that the Psycho was so knowledgeable? However, his spurts of insight seemed to come at the worst moments. (Or best, according to Maya.)

Maya shook her head clear, and glanced slyly at Lilith.

She all but hesitated, and Maya dangled at her chance of victory.

The other Siren wouldn't admit defeat so readily, as Lilith demonstrated with her own scorning stare.

Who would win? Whose cards were better?

The two mystic women bluffed each other, shifting glances and token strategies.

Time seemed to stretch on forever, but it only turned into another hour.

That's when Maya saw it..she must have been drinking too much, but now:

Her crutch...her escape...she had an extra Ace sticking to the back of her Queen!

'Oh, shit...Zer0! I understand now. I get it!' Maya thought excitedly, doing nothing to hide it.

Right then, Maya slammed down all her cards in order. She knew it was over.

As if expecting this, Lilith sighed good-naturedly, and placed her own hand down on the table.

A losing hand.

Maya won.

Begrudgingly, Lilith admired her opponent. Maybe she should've listened to Mordy...Then again, that guy just lived off of other people's luck...(and loot!) So he wasn't the greatest example to learn from.

'But he's a good player.' Lilith thought. Not unlike Moxxi's philosophical questions to herself, she wondered about the mysteries of love and luck.

Meanwhile, Maya ignored Lilith as she waxed poetic, eagerly planning her return to prideful glory.

The only way to accomplish this, was to top anything that the assassin did with this game. (That included his earnings.)

Fondling the explosives on her belt, the cerulean Siren made her way to the Sanctuary gate. She shifted the newly acquired loot in her rucksack to the ground, and set it up.

It had been fun winning it, sure. But this would be even more fun. And deliciously wasteful.

Maya snickered to herself, and readied the explosion.

Before she got a chance to detonate the bomb, she heard the silent footfalls of one forgotten obstacle.

'Better a friend than an enemy,' she thought.

The 'enemy' in question was none other than Zer0.

'Scavenger,' Maya thought bitterly, before turning around to greet the black-clad stranger.

Arms full of wadded money, she cracked a cautious smile.

Before she was able, Zer0 spoke instead:

"This looks like it's fun.

Any chance I can join you?

It's just between us."

A winking face flashed on his helmet.

Maya paused, wads of cash still in her arms, and considered embarrassment.

Looking down, she hesitated a few more seconds, then shrugged.

"Sure, why not?"

She dumped her earnings on top of the mounded soil, and walked back to stand by the assassin.

In a truly out of character moment, Maya channeled Tiny Tina, and set off the detonator.

"Make it raiiiinnnnn, bitches!" She screamed.

That day, two Vault Hunters danced in a chaotic dome of loot, and no one was spared from their mirthful cries and dancing.

Not even Krieg, as he stared on from the main gate to Sanctuary.

Gaige watched too, and smiled, as the Psycho bellowed:

"More loot for me! For MEEE!


	14. RhysVaughn

A/N: Spoilers for those who haven't played Tales from the Borderlands!

Since we don't know what the hell happened to Rhys and Fiona after they touched the box and transported to who the hell knows where, I've imagined an alternate ending where life goes on as it would have if they didn't reach the vault. I can't even speculate what the hell the writers are going to come up with, but I imagine the possibility of tons of scattered vaults mentioned in BL2 is going to be a motherfucker to develop. [Borderlands 3, anyone?] Besides, with the ending the way it was, there's no freaking way there won't be a season 2 of TFTBL. Here's hoping!

So anyway, here's a little story of a drunken, Jack-free Rhys, circa Post-Vault of the Traveler.

Chapter Text

"It's strong, sugar," Moxxi warned the freshly lauded hero. Jack was finally dead, and the owner of the famed Atlas Corporation had paid Sanctuary a visit. At first, it was to discuss business prospects with Marcus, but soon he'd been herded by several Vault Hunters over to Moxxi's bar to celebrate.

It had gotten late, however, and the group of mercs had long since trickled off on their own. Some had stumbled off drunk-Axton and Mordecai in particular-but the others no doubt had contracts to fulfill. (Rhys thought of Zer0, specifically, and smiled stupidly as he remembered how cool he had been in the fight against the Traveler.)

Reaching for the glass in Moxxi's hand, he took the next shot of 'Rid Rum. Trying to act tough, he slapped his chest as if unfazed. Seconds later he released a coughing fit, destroying whatever macho image he had tried to display.

Vaughn rolled his eyes at Moxxi and she smirked at him, holding in a chuckle.

"Whew! It's not that bad after...um..."

Rhys paused to count how many shots he'd taken, but failing to remember, he just shrugged.

"Oh well. I can hold my liquor. Can't I, Vaughn?" He gleefully elbowed Vaughn in the ribs, making him wince.

Not waiting for an answer, he drunkenly continued.

"Who the hell makes this swill? It tastes like corrosive sewage..or skag vomit mixed with shitty Helios coffee!"

He shook his head with sardonic laughter. Unaware that his eyes were closing, his vision darkened and his head hit the bar. Wavering between sleep and wakefulness, he heard the voice.

'Hahaha, you can't even fake it! You're not a hero, you're a mass murderer. So go ahead, and drink your poison. You deserve to suffer. You're nothing, Rhys...You always have been, and you always will be...nothing...'

The voice faded, and he jerked awake, realizing that he'd almost completely passed out at the bar.

He sighed deeply, shaken by the imagined voice. What shook him even more so was the overwhelming guilt that still consumed him. Somehow, even in death, Jack could still mock him and it tormented his conscience.

Rhys sighed again, and rubbed his bleary eyes with shaking hands. Vaughn grabbed his arm.

"You cool, bro?"

"Hah...Yeah, ah, yeah...but I think Moxxi hates me.." He looked up at a concerned Moxxi and gave her a wry smile.

"Thanks for the party, Moxxi," he said sincerely when she didn't respond to his attempt at humor.

Pathetically, Rhys tried to stand up from the stool, but only managed to stagger. Using the length of the bar to guide him, he stopped and sat down again two stools down, presumably to keep from smacking his boozy face onto the floor.

Vaughn motioned to Moxxi behind the bar to help him, and she complied.

They listened to his vague statements as they tried to lift him from his slumped over position.

Obviously incoherent, Rhys said dreamily,"I bet she would love a gun from Atlas...from..me. M-maybe she could even love me...she loves rare Atlas..things..."

"..I'm kinda rare, too...you know..."

Vaughn glanced at his friend and then at Moxxi, before he asked:

"Uh..Um, Moxxi...do you have a spare place to sleep? I hate to ask you this, but this was just a one day business trip..and well, we weren't planning to stay overnight..."

He hated imposing on people, but his buddy was obviously unfit for any kind of machinery. Hell, he had machines in his body. Besides, taking care of Rhys was his duty as a best friend.

Moxxi smiled kindly and said, "Of course, honey. You've been quite generous with your tips tonight, so how could I refuse?" She winked at a bashful-looking Vaughn and he nervously scratched the back of his head.

"Heheh, well, you know...I always try to support small businesses...Corporations can be real crooks sometimes..." He cleared his throat.

"A-anyway, thank you so much." Vaughn smiled back gratefully.

Their attention returned to Rhys when he mumbled incoherently, and Vaughn moved closer to him. Like a baby, Rhys's cold hands flailed around searching for his friend's neck. Looking blindly through hooded eyes, he finally found Vaughn. Again like a baby, he wrapped his arms around the shocked (and then annoyed) Vaughn and snuggled up to his warmth.

"Uhh..Rhys? Let's go to bed, buddy. Okay?"

Rhys merely grasped him tighter in response.

"What the freaking hell, man..I'm not Sasha," Vaughn said exasperated, and tried to pry him off.

"So...nice..." Rhys said softly, and tried to stand up. He succeeded to sway, only to smash his drooling face onto his friend's shoulder. He was undeniably asleep.

Vaughn looked at Moxxi with an imploring look, and she shook her head with an obliging smile. She had obviously dealt with this kind of thing before.

"Let's put him to bed...There's a loft up there." Moxxi motioned to the door near the back of the bar.

Vaughn finally unlocked Rhys's hands from his neck and swung his buddy's shoulder over his own. He carefully lifted his friend off the stool.

Without a word, Moxxi came to help with the other shoulder, and together they squeezed themselves up the stairs.

Reaching the dark room, the two gently lowered Rhys down into the tiny bed. He snorted comically, and he curled up and rolled on his side. They covered him with the blanket, and Vaughn dutifully tucked him in.

"Sleep well, man." Vaughn grinned as he watched a thin trail of drool slide down Rhys's chin. He started to snore with contentment and clutched the blanket to his chest.

Moxxi was waiting at the stoop of the stairs, and smiled at him.

"Always good to help a friend in need," she said.

They smiled at each other, and went back downstairs.

"Are you tired?" Moxxi queried upon reaching the landing.

"Yes, actually. I am," Vaughn answered, and she motioned for him to follow her to her room.

"I already closed up shop, so why don't we rest up in here?" Moxxi asked coolly as she went ahead into her room.

'Thank you, Rhys, thank you, Rhys, thank you!' he thought with joy. Despite the giant slobber mark on his shirt and the hungover demon he'd have to deal with tomorrow, he couldn't be happier.

Sometimes it pays to have a drunk friend. What better wingman could there be? They're like puppies.

And you should always, always tip your bartender, especially if her name is Mad Moxxi.


	15. RhysVaughn: Blood Bros

In which Rhys is a freaking sicko/weirdo, probably because of the whole skin pizza thing, who knows? Takes place around the end or after TFTBL...I don't know. Just another story about them, because friendship is the tits. Unrelated to the previous story of them.

Chapter Text

Ducking for cover, brains and blood from several bandit raiders splattered the wall beside the shocked pair.

"IT'S NEVER ENOUGH," Loaderbot lamented as several more bandits approached through the gate.

One of the bandit's arms and what looked like entrails (almost) comically flapped through the air and landed next to Rhys.

Without hesitation, he moved to avoid the bloody remnants hurling toward him from their mediocre shelter-a low metal barricade. He'd missed most of the debris somehow.

"AHHh, SHIT!"

Vaughn's unexpectedly high-pitched screech from a couple feet away startled Rhys more than the airborne gore raining down.

"Whoa, hahaha," Rhys remarked, not bothering to hide his smirk or cocked eyebrow as he looked over at his friend..

HIs expression changed instantly a few seconds later.

"Uh, sorry, bro...That's..that's uh...Okay, yeah. We chose a bad spot to hide..." Rhys trailed off as he mumbled a lame apology.

Vaughn had been closer to the destruction, and was drenched in what was definitely more than one bandit's blood, brains, guts.

He sat there motionless, no doubt either trying to quell a horrified, disgusted scream, or more likely, he was holding in a justified vomit.

Attempting to distract him, Rhys peeked over the barricade and started praising their robotic savior.

"Hey, look, Vaughn! Loaderbot is kickin' ass! We should be happy that those-"Rhys barely concealed a retching noise-"pieces weren't us...!"

The burning glare from the accountant's eyes was enough to make Rhys sheepishly turn his gaze back to Loaderbot's grisly handiwork.

As if in sync with their thoughts, Loaderbot looked back at them for a moment, his crimson eye staring blankly. He seemed to be finished with the bandits.

Rhys gave LB a weak thumbs up, and warily turned back to his silent friend.

Once more attempting to lighten the mood, Rhys steeled himself and stood up. He wasn't really thinking about what he was doing, but he had to do...something.

Gagging slightly, he reached down to retrieve the dismembered head that had bounced off of Vaughn's shoulder and landed in his lap.

Rhys methodically continued to gather up the numerous scattered limbs surrounding Vaughn and morbidly set them up like bowling pins a short distance away.

Not being completely immune to the flesh rain himself, Rhys sloppily wiped some blood spray off his lips and cheeks when he was finished setting up the grotesque display.

With an awkward half-smile, half-grimace, Rhys put his hand out to his friend. Looking pitiful, Vaughn tentatively took his hand and stood up.

Entrails and some putrid fluids plopped onto the dust around them.

Facing Vaughn, Rhys slowly brushed off and picked away some remaining fleshy bits from his neck and shoulders. When their eyes met, they both gagged at the mess and looked away. (It was hard to tell, but it looked like some spurts of puke had dribbled onto Vaughn's bloody chest.)

Regaining their composure, Rhys spoke.

"I know this set up is creepy, but I want you to think of it like this: They-these, these MURDERERS would have done a lot worse to you if Loaderbot hadn't been here to help us. You would probably be halfway turned to shit by now. Which, by the way, thanks LB. You're awesome."

He paused to smile at the robot and continued to speak after a few minutes of thinking.

"You see, Vaughn, I think this planet is like a game of bowling. That head-ahem, BALL-is Pandora's chaos and psychos and monsters and deadly shit hurtling toward us, and WE are the unsuspecting pins-Er, LIMBS-ripe and ready to be victims to it."

Vaughn groaned at his choice of words. "Ripe" was certainly not anything he wanted to be described as, given his current occupation as a walking meat puppet. The thought of being an actual puppet to some sicko who wanted him as supper made him even more nauseous.

Not really aware of Vaughn's declining state, Rhys grabbed the head again and shuddered at what he was about to do.

For effect, he reached back his hand with the head like a bowling ball and postured himself to release it.

Vaughn's eyes watered from holding down his puke. He was so mortified all he could do was try to listen and fight the much needed urge to purge his horror.

He couldn't hold it in much longer, and Rhys wasn't helping in the least. In fact, he could barely comprehend half of what he was saying, but he appreciated Rhys's effort to help him feel better...

Kind of.

Rhys continued his metaphorical and awful pep-talk, trying not to vomit himself. (He had a vague thought then about how unsavory his methods were, but he was in too deep already. Vaughn was traumatized and he had no idea how to fix that, so he'd impulsively chosen the rather dubious therapy of "kill the killer.")

"Vaughn? Are you listening? Just hear me out, okay?" Rhys pleaded and then changed his tone before going on.

"We're like victims...But we don't have to BE victims. We can get smothered in disgusting nightmare juices, we can get chased by crazy cannibal bastards, and we can even become some monster's chew toy, but I'll be DAMNED if I just lay down and take it!"

With that declaration and surprisingly good form, Rhys flung the "ball" down toward the slanted arms and legs. Of course, he missed every one, but his point was made.

He wondered to himself, 'Maybe Vaughn will change his perspective about this murderous hellhole.'

Seconds later, his half-hearted wish was cut short.

Violent retching noises erupted behind him, and he jumped around to see Vaughn mercilessly destroying his will to swallow the bile rising in his own throat. Rhys swallowed.

"That's...so...disgusting..." Vaughn heaved at Rhys after he was finished. He straightened to face his friend before exploding.

"What the hell is WRONG with you? Why do that?! No, more importantly, what made you THINK of that? And why would I watch? OH GOD, Rhys. I don't...I don't think I've ever appreciated being near-sighted as much as I have today."

There were several long minutes of silence before Rhys piped up and asked timidly:

"So, did you get it? The metaphor, I mean."

Vaughn simply hung his head in bloody, vomit-y defeat and sighed.

"Yeah, I think so...something about 'kill or be killed, so don't sweat these violent mutilations of human beings because they would wear you as a suit given the chance...'?"

"Is that about right?"

Rhys shrugged his shoulders flippantly and put his arm around the congealed Vaughn.

"Close enough! Let's go get you cleaned up, bro," he quipped cheerfully. He paused a moment later and spoke pensively.

"As long as you understand...but I forgot to mention, you have ME, remember? So even if you think you can't make it, just know I've always got your back."

"I think I'm gonna puke again..." Vaughn retorted with a bloody smile.

The two laughed and returned to Loaderbot, grateful to be alive. It is not known how many bro-fists were bumped on the journey home, but you can be sure that Vaughn had recurring nightmares for weeks.


	16. Helios

**SPOILERS!**

 **A newly geared-up LoaderBot...**

 **Urgency+falling space station+new suit-group of friends=**  
 **Biggest troll in the universe?**  
 **Or just OOC programming?**

 **Maybe a bit of both?**

"..MAYDAY, MAYDAY..."

-HEAVY BREATHING-

"..This is Dameon Montague speaking...VIOLET...Violet, if you can  
hear me-I'm about to leave on this emergency capsule and I love you  
and-"

-CRASHING NOISES-

"W-hat? What the fuck, man?!" -D. MONTAGUE.

-FEEDBACK NOISES-

-"I AM SORRY, FRIEND. I MUST SEND THIS MESSAGE."-SENTIENT ROBOTIC SOLDIER.

"But my fiancee, Violet! How will she know..?"-D. MONTAGUE.

"VIOLET CAPULET? SHE THINKS YOU ARE DEAD. I DO NOT KNOW OF HER  
FATE."-SENTIENT ROBOTIC SOLDIER.

"What?! But what if she thinks I'm dead? How can she know I'm  
alive?"-D. MONTAGUE.

-"THEN YOU SHOULD BOTH WAIT AND AVOID JUMPING TO CONCLUSIONS."-SRS.

-"TO THE REFUGEES OF HELIOS...BRACE YOURSELF UPON LANDING, AND BE AT  
PEACE IF YOU DO NOT SURVIVE."

-"I ALSO REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR IMMINENT DEATH IS LIKELY THE  
FAULT OF NO ONE, AND YOU ARE SIMPLY COLLATERAL DAMAGE. YOU SHOULD  
ATTEMPT TO RESCIND YOUR ANGER OR FRUSTRATION."

-"FAILING THAT, INCENTIVE FOR SURVIVAL IS A GREAT IDEA! CHANNEL YOUR  
DESPERATION INTO SOMETHING MORE CONDUCIVE FOR THE VIOLENT NATURE OF  
PANDORA. FINDTHE NEAREST MUNITIONS VENDOR AND SUPPLY YOURSELF  
WITH GEAR AS NEEDED. EXACT COORDINATES TBD."

-"TO MY FRIENDS AND GORTYS: I AM ALIVE. DO NOT LOSE FAITH, SO PLEASE  
WAIT FOR ME. THERE IS STRENGTH IN NUMBERS. I WILL FIND YOU.  
SEE YOU SOON."-


	17. Wilhelm, The Lonely

**Slightly anachronistic...forgive me.**

Damned if he did... And damned if you know the rest.

He was damned anyway. Several blatant surgeries and several answers  
later spawned within him a new man.

Man?...Robot?

He didn't know anymore.

Another cybernetic dream that spawned so many of his own. He knew his dream.  
He knew it quite well.  
And he lived it.

But it seemed the right 'one' had never come along.

He was always destined for fortitude.  
Hell, he wouldn't live any other way.

Good or bad, he just acted accordingly.

But he was jealous somehow.

He still had feelings at least...And that's to say he felt threatened  
by the way of a man called Rhys.

Just who the hell was he?

'Not a Vault Hunter, for sure,' he thought. 'She's killed me twice  
over and never once blinked an eye at who I was...and yet, YOU...'

She couldn't, WOULDN'T, stop talking about the Hyperion bastard. Perhaps  
he looked too much like Jack...

But he was an outsider...

One of THEM, who kept causing problems.

Or maybe she was just that kind of a person.

He suddenly felt the protective need in his chest, to prevent, if not  
stop the whole thing, discreetly.

But who was he?

He was not hers...Nor was he a conscious thought on her mind. Rather,  
he was a good substitute for family, because his own  
children..child?...

"No." He thought, pushing those thoughts away.

"No," he gruffly said aloud.

Maybe he said it twice, but the message got through. He hoped.

Moxxi smiled at someone, and helped carry his drunken  
friend outside.

Helpless, he stared after them as they briefly exited, but like a protector,  
he did nothing.

Maybe HE was the bastard.

His robotic eye twitched, and his metal arms hurt.

Perhaps he wasn't meant to babysit a grown woman, capable of her own decisions.

'Too late,' he thought solemnly.

He pouted intensively, when Moxxi strolled up to his booth. She filled  
his mug, beaming at him as she always did.

"Last call, Wil," she said nonchalantly.

She paused, staring at him, and added:

"You know you're the only one I trust in here after dark, right?"

Unable to respond in kind, he angrily sighed aloud.

"Would you be so kind...refill?" He asked gruffly after downing his drink in a few seconds.

Moxxi looked at him knowingly.

"On the house," she said.

She poured his second glass full.

"No trouble, sugar. Come up to the bar. Let's talk."

Wilhelm paused, then responded:

"No."

Moxxi's eyes widened, then she nodded in understanding.

"I'm here for you...You know, if you need to talk."

She glanced back over her shoulder, and seeing his blank stare,  
decided to move on.

Too much thinking, causes sinking...and leaves much too much, unknown.

For such a badass, Wilhelm could not seem to find a decent word to say  
in response to her kindness. So the cyborg flatly finished his next drink,  
and left the bar.

Little did he know that Moxxi stood from behind the counter, bearing a  
look of remorse and sympathy as he walked away.

Later on, she would speak fondly of him whenever questioned about his  
exploits, but she never told anyone how lonely he'd looked at the last  
call that night.


	18. The Gun, Part 3

"There she is!" Moxxi greeted the two women when they entered the Up Over Bar.

A few drunken patrons in the surrounding booths hollered their response.

"Whoo! Yeah!"  
"We love you, Athena!"  
"You're the best!"

"Happy birthday, my shielded friend!" The attending slacker/bartender B4R-BOT cheerfully saluted the couple and motioned at them to follow.

Arms entwined, Janey and Athena approached the empty stools up front and sat down.

Moxxi smiled wider, and winked at the gladiator and her partner, already pouring their drinks.

She seemed excited.

Athena smiled back, unsure what to expect.

"Hey, Moxxi. I brought her. She was so busy at the grinder, I almost couldn't pull her away," Janey teased, rubbing Athena's arm fondly.

Moxxi and she shared a look, and Athena didn't miss the sly glint exchanged between them.

'Oh, shit. What are they planning?' she thought, half-amused.

"To start," Moxxi announced grandly, "here's a toast to Elpis's number one hero and badass, Athena."

She paused for effect, and handed the two women their drinks-A Maliwan Black Label for Janey, and a double violet (violent?) 'Rid Rum for the birthday girl. (The double shot was a new tradition that Axton had started since coming in for a drink on his own birthday. It was free, but no one really appreciated it. Anyway, there it was.)

All who were present and with drinks in hand raised their respective glasses, waiting for Moxxi to finish her toast.

"Happy Birthday, honey. We love you!" Moxxi inclined her head and they all drank in unison.

Athena drank her shot quickly, but still managed to cough a little at its roughness.

"Ahem, thanks, guys. Heheh," she laughed softly, and looked over at Janey.

The blonde's smile seemed to light up the room like the neon signs around them.

'Brighter, even,' Athena thought, feeling slightly dizzy from the drink in her belly.

"I'm so happy," Janey exclaimed, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Me, too," she said somewhat shyly, and kissed her back. (Damned chairs were so far apart.)

Suddenly, the gladiator felt awkward, and tried to turn the attention away from herself.

"So, Moxxi, how've you been? I know I don't come in here often, but it's good to see you."

"Oh, honey, same ol' thing. I have so many bars and patrons to take care of, there's never a dull moment." She replied wearily, but her eyes shone with happiness.

"I like to stay busy," she added, wiping off a small spill on the counter.

"That's good," Athena said. "I'll be sure to have a drink next time I'm on Pandora..." her voice trailed off and she cautiously looked over at Janey to see her reaction.

But the woman fortunately seemed unfazed by her words; Instead, she was looking at Moxxi.

Trying not to smile, Janey asked, "You think it's time?"

Without a word, Moxxi bent down out of sight for a moment, and returned holding a large rectangular box.

"This is it," she proclaimed, and hefted it up onto the counter. Her eyes twinkled.

Athena just sat there, staring at it.

"Um, what is it?" she asked, still eyeballing the object in front of her.

It wasn't wrapped, but it seemed heavy. And expensive.

It'd have been a lie if Athena had said that she wasn't at least a LITTLE curious.

Pressing her lips together in an attempt to hide her own excitement, Janey merely scooted the box closer to her.

"It's your present, silly. I wanted it to be extra-special, so I had Moxxi here call in some favors to help me."

"Go on, open it," Moxxi encouraged.

Athena cleared her still-burning throat and said, "Okay, um, thank you..."

She lifted the side of the lid and upon seeing its contents, fervently flung off the whole top.

"Oh. My. God. Is this..?" She breathed out, and then laughed wholeheartedly as she pulled the weapon out.

She turned it over in her hands and gleefully looked back and forth between the two other women.

"Is this a legendary?" Athena asked, her eyes widening as she turned it over in her hands again to examine it further.

Seemingly pleased with themselves, Janey and Moxxi glanced at one another and grinned knowingly.

"Not only that, there's a special, um, feature," Moxxi said with an all-too-familiar erotic edge in her voice.

Janey cleared her throat and leaned in to whisper, "It's Moxxi's Vibra-Pulse, but this one is...well, special. It's for you, especially, but..." her voice trailed off meaningfully.

Finally realizing their implications, Athena gasped and then blushed when she noticed the rounded, detachable object on the gun's bottom end.

Embarrassed, the gladiator managed to croak out a quiet thanks.

Seconds later, however, she was all business.

She stared hard at Janey.

"Wanna go?" she asked, raising her eyebrow mischievously.

Speechless, Janey hid her mouth and blushed deeply. Regaining her composure, the blonde then nodded emphatically and reached out to grab Athena's free hand.

"Let's go," Janey replied, and the two started to leave when Athena paused to look back at a smug-looking Moxxi.

"Thank you, Moxxi."

The woman nodded coyly in response and lifted a hand to her mouth, as if trying to contain her giant, beaming smile.

They were out of earshot then, but Athena knew that smile.

Moxxi kind of giggled to herself, then said after them:

"Have fun, girls."

As they descended the stairs, Athena playfully kissed Janey on the mouth.

'Happy Birthday, to me,' she thought, and admired her new toy.

'TOYS,' Athena corrected in her head, a sly smile spreading across her face.

After tonight, killing bad guys with it would just be the icing on the proverbial cake.


End file.
